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“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.” He followed me as I stowed the caddy in a closet.
“I’m at work. You’re stalking me.”
“You know I’ll pay for any income you lose, however modest it might be.”
I whirled around on him. “Don’t you dare! You don’t get to insult me for being an escort, then turn around and insult me for cleaning houses. You can’t have it both ways!”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re right. But yesterday I offered you more than you could make at this in years. You know economics. This is not the highest and best use of your time.”
“I don’t want your money! And I damn sure don’t want to beg you for it.” I hurried down the grand staircase to collect my pay and my backpack.
He was right beside me. “I was angry. That was uncalled for. I would not do that again.”
In the kitchen, my gaze flicked to the envelope on the counter; his did too. He lunged for it before I reached it.
“That’s mine!”
He flipped through the bills, then surveyed the spotless mansion. “Are you fucking kidding me?” He finally handed my pay over.
Stuffing the envelope into a pocket, I headed to the back entrance. At the door, I grabbed my pack and snapped to Sevastyan, “Get out. Now.” I punched in the alarm code. If only I’d armed it before my stalker had arrived.
With raised brows, he exited. “To be given the code for a place like this, you must’ve been cleaning it for a while.”
The clock on the alarm panel said one! Mierda! I’d lost track of time. My bus stop was half a mile away. If I missed my ride, I’d miss my exam.
“I just want five minutes, Katya.”
“I don’t have five minutes and wouldn’t give them to you even if I did. Sevastyan, consider this a scarcity situation. As far as you’re concerned, my ass just got scarce.” I hurried outside, rolling my eyes to see Vasili parked on the street.
Forbidding clouds gathered overhead. Getting to school in the rain; perfect. When I hustled toward my stop, Sevastyan kept following me! “Déjame en paz!”
“Leave you alone? Not until you talk to me.”
Would he follow me onto the bus? If he did, he could find out where I went to school. Maybe I should try to put him off. I stopped, telling him, “If you go now, I will meet up with you later. I’ll swing by the hotel.”
“Oh, really?”
“I can be there at five, and we’ll talk all of this out.”
He blinked down at me. “You’re . . . lying.” A breath left him. “And you’re fucking awful at it.”
“Ugh!” The bus was already at the stop. I took off running to catch it, careening inside the doors. I wanted to scream when the bastard climbed in right before they closed. So much for a period of calm to get my mind straight for my last exam in college. “Isn’t public transportation beneath you?” I demanded, tapping my card pass.
He gazed around at all the eyes on him. With his expensive threads, he stood out like a Russian billionaire on public transportation.
“Where’s your pass?” the driver barked.
Sevastyan looked at a loss. “I don’t have one. But I’m not getting off this bus.”
“If you pay in cash, you don’t get change.”
Pulling out his full money clip, Sevastyan peeled off a crisp hundred. “I hope this will suffice.” He’d just handed away almost as much as I’d made slaving over a huge mansion.
The driver said, “Enjoy the ride.”
I hastened toward the back, wishing there were more people. I sat by a window, putting my pack next to me.
He moved it to his lap and sat. “I need to speak with you—in private.”
I yanked my bag from him. “And I need you to not be here. We both crapped out.” Rain began to patter the roof, then pour.
“You’re not even interested in what I’m offering?”
“Go. To. Hell.”
“Please talk to me, Katya.” Determined to ignore him, I stared out the window. “So stubborn. You’ll find that I am too.”
For the rest of the way, I refused to speak to him. When the bus slowed, my face fell. At the stop for my next bus, the one that took me close to campus, everyone was crowded under the shelter. I’d have to wait in the rain.
I rose and trudged through the doors to the street.
He followed me into the downpour. “You’re waiting for another one of these?” he asked, aghast.
The temperature had dropped. I began to shake from the wet cold. “F-feel f-free to leave.”
When the bus pulled up, he said, “Enough of this.” He waved for his Bentley, because apparently Vasili had been following us—
Sevastyan snagged my upper arm, forcing me toward the car.
“Nooo, I need to get on that bus!” Though I kicked at his leg, he was dogged, and in seconds, I found myself in the backseat.
The divider was down, so he told Vasili, “Follow the bus.” To me, he said, “See how much easier this is?” He turned on the heater.
“You can’t do this to me!” At least we were heading in the right direction. Once we closed in on the campus, I’d dart out of the car. “Y-you kidnapped me off the street?”
“You forget I’m in the mafiya. Taking people off the street is a matter of course.” Was that a joke? Or a threat?